


They Remind Us

by robinasnyder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: FYSL Holiday Hellatus Fanwork Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has scars, and Sam's okay with that. Lucifer isn't, but he doesn't heal them either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Remind Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charliebradburyfanwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=charliebradburyfanwarrior).



> I somehow kind of managed to hit all three of my prompts and roll them into one story. Thanks for the ideas, dear.

Sam let Lucifer heal him to a point. Sam knew Lucifer was still healing himself. Besides, Sam had been destroyed and put back together so many times, he supposed that he'll probably find someone to heal him again. Gadreel had healed up even the scar on his hand, though Sam still shuttered to think about Gadreel.

"It's just a scar," Sam said.

"Yes, but it doesn't belong there," Lucifer responded. He was frustrated. Sam didn't blame him, not really. From what Sam could understand about Lucifer's thinking, it was like leaving an ugly splotch on a famous painting.

"Yeah, but it doesn't not belong their either. It's just a scar. Humans get them all the time, even if nothing really bad happens. It's part of being human." Sam tried to be comforting.

"Scars mean that something has gone wrong with your ability to heal yourself," Lucifer snapped. Apparently those weren't the right words to comfort Lucifer.

"But it doesn't mean I'm dying," Sam said.

"It means you will," Lucifer said quietly.

Sam stared at Lucifer. He had nothing to say to that. For him, even with all the times he'd died, he still had trouble thinking of himself dying. He knew he would one day, but he couldn't conceive of forever. But of course Lucifer could. Sam got up and walked to Lucifer.

"Will it make you feel better if you heal it?" Sam asked, offering Lucifer his arm where the offended scar is. Lucifer accepted Sam's arm and looked at the spot like he didn't even want to touch it. Sam had seen that look on the faces of mothers helping kids deal with wounds. It hurt Lucifer to see him hurt.

"No," Lucifer finally said and let Sam go. "It will still mean the same. I just have to accept it."

Sam moved closer to Lucifer and kissed him. He brushed his nose against Lucifer's. Lucifer was still so weak from his escape and then killing Gadreel. His vessel looked whole and healthy, which was how Sam knew Lucifer wasn't at full power. Sam decided he'd worry when Lucifer's vessel started to wear again. Until then, he would be happy to have Lucifer back.

* * *

Lucifer continued to scowl when Sam got scars, even two years later. But he didn't heal them himself. He found information on the internet about creams that reduced scars. He would rub them into each of Sam's scars with almost exaggerated care each night before they'd go to sleep. Sometimes it really pissed Sam off, since Sam could be sleeping. But Lucifer would only ask him if he would prefer to Lucifer to heal them.

Sometimes Sam would almost answer yes, almost. He was tired of the night time ritual. But he never said yes, not to that. Lucifer had reduced the scars with his little ritual. Even the scars that had stopped fading, Lucifer still treated the same. Sometimes Sam could see how frustrated Lucifer was that they weren't going away. But Lucifer did not try to just remove them. In a way it reminded Sam of how Lucifer was with his garden. He put so much time and energy into it that it seemed like a waste to just let Lucifer heal them.

Lucifer's vessel wasn't fading at all.

That thought always came out of nowhere for Sam. Sam had expected a few months of reprieve before he'd had to worry about if he should say yes to Lucifer or not. But two years had passed and Lucifer still wasn't healed. Sam was starting to wonder if Lucifer would heal at all.

He wondered if maybe Lucifer poured some of his grace into the garden. Certainly it grew when everything else was dead. But Lucifer also changed plants and talked about winter plants. So maybe not. Sam wasn't certain if he really wanted to know. It was better not to think of it.

"You want me to get you anything while we're away?" Sam asked Lucifer while Lucifer worked on the scars on his arm.

"You not to come home all battered would be good," Lucifer said. Lucifer and Cas were staying behind. Sam and Dean were driving Kevin to KSU. There really wasn't any reason why they should get hurt, but they always seemed to find trouble anyway.

"Sure you don't want to come?" Sam asked.

"Nah, angel bonding time," Lucifer said. Sam grimaced. Cas and Lucifer were still really uncomfortable around each other. Even Dean got along with Lucifer better than Cas did. They just insulted each other, of course. But Lucifer had gone and dragged Benny out of Purgatory for Dean, and helped keep Benny on a pretty steady diet of angel blood, which apparently kept Benny from being so hungry.

And well, Benny was good to hunt with.

It was different with Cas. Cas had a little grace left from what he'd stolen. But Cas was sullen more often than not. He was angry. He even yelled and shouted sometimes when the two of them had been previously speaking softly. Sam didn't know what was going on, but Lucifer told Sam not to worry about it. Sam did though. He worried about leaving them alone for so long.

"You're worrying, I can feel you worrying," Lucifer said. He suddenly straddled Sam's hips and started to massage his lower back. Sam gasped and snuggled into the pillows.

"I don't want Cas and you to fight," Sam said.

"That's the point of angel bonding time," Lucifer said and Sam could practically hear Lucifer's smile.

"I'm serious," Sam said.

"So am I. I know you worry, but I'm working on it, okay? Just trust me."

"I do trust you," Sam said, sinking into the mattress. Lucifer rubbed the scar reducer into his entire back. It smelled like flowers, not roses though. Roses and Lilies smelled like Funeral homes.

* * *

Lucifer ran his hands through Sam's hair. It had grey in it now. Sam never commented on it when he knew Lucifer is in ear shot and Sam kicked Dean under the table whenever he joked about it when Lucifer was around. Sam couldn't kick Krissy Chambers or her packs of hunters. He couldn't kick Kevin's wife Darla. He really couldm't kick the kids they have running around under feet all the time now.

Sam always protested that the Bunker wasn't home, but it was now. Hunters came and they moved in with their children because it was safe. They used the research Kevin or Sam or Dean or Cas or Lucifer or sometimes even Benny did. One day Dean even turned to Sam and asked him when they'd become Bobby.

And Sam liked that. He did. He liked his grey hairs because they meant he'd lived a lot longer than he thought he would. And while he bitched about his joints starting to ache in the morning, he still liked it. He liked what he'd become.

But he knew Lucifer didn't.

Alright, to be fair, Lucifer didn't treat him that much different except that he healed the aches. But he also eyed the wrinkles at the corners of Sam's mouth and around his eyes and in his forehead. He stroked Sam's hair more than he had when Sam had shiny, soft hair, not the coarse mess it was becoming. Sometimes when they were in bed Lucifer would do everything so desperately, like he was dying of thirst and trying to drink everything before it was taken from him.

And Sam knew why. They just didn't talk about it.

"Ready Sam?" Lucifer asked, reaching for the scar cream.

"Yeah," Sam said. It had been over 30 years since Lucifer came back into Sam's life. 30 years and Lucifer hadn't aged. Lucifer's body hadn't started to break down. Lucifer had never gotten his power back to full. And Lucifer never once asked Sam to be his vessel. Sam was in his 50s, getting closer to 60 every day and Lucifer never asked him.

Lucifer stripped Sam down and began his nightly ritual. He let things scar when they would have scared. But he still used the cream, every night he used it. Sam knew Lucifer added a little something to it, because any aches Sam felt from those places, like the one on his left knee that flared up whenever Sam ran too long or it was going to rain, were always soothed by the cream. But Lucifer never healed the scars.

"I love you," Sam said.

"I love you too, Sam," Lucifer responded, like he always did. Sam's chest ached, because he knew that as much as Sam did love Lucifer, Lucifer would always love Sam more. And Sam wished he could offer Lucifer more than that.

* * *

Sam had just turned 87 and was in the hospital. The hospital staff thought that Lucifer was Sam's son, and they'd coo over how sweet the level of devotion was. Every day Lucifer came and sat by Sam's side. Sam never tried to send Lucifer home, but Lucifer got there as early as he could and stayed as late as he could. Other people came, of course. Kevin brought his grandkids to visit and have Sam tell stories. Krissy Chamber's daughter came all the time.

Dean had already died three years before. Sam was still a little confused as to why Castiel still hung around and hadn't returned to heaven to be with Dean.

"You ready, Sam?" Lucifer asked, pulling the scar reducer from his bag.

"Always," Sam said. Lucifer still used the stupid scar reducer every day.

Lucifer started with what was on Sam's arms. Lucifer had a system. He'd start with Sam's arms and neck, the things that were easily reachable. Then he'd do legs, uncovering only what part he was working on and then recovering it when he finished so that Sam wouldn't get cold. He pulled the little Velcro pieces of Sam's hospital gown open and work on Sam's chest. He didn't even have to look to find those spots anymore. He knew where all of Sam's scars were. Finally he'd help Sam either sit up or roll over onto his side so he could get Sam's back. Then he'd right Sam and lay down next to him for a while until Sam fell asleep.

Sam was silent through this whole process. He always was. Normally he fell asleep quickly once Lucifer pressed against him. Not that night. Sam knew he wasn't going to make it this time. He wasn't going to get out of this bed again. He couldn't even walk anymore. And maybe he could try to live to be 90 or 100, but he didn't want to. Dean was gone. They'd set up the best Hunter Network that had ever existed. They'd stopped the end of the world. It was enough, more than enough.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sam asked.

"Of course," Lucifer said. He pulled a smile onto his lips. "I'm going to get to go home."

"What?" Sam asked in surprise. He never thought he'd hear that.

"Father spoke to me… he said that what I've been doing here on earth is enough repentance… that I can go home."

"When?" Sam asked.

"I could go home now if I want… but I'm not going to go without you." Lucifer's smile was gentle. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam's brow.

"Thank God," Sam whispered and leaned into Lucifer. It was all unbelievable, but Lucifer never lied to him, never. Sometimes that meant Lucifer telling Sam exactly what he thought, no matter how frustrated Lucifer's blunt opinions would make Sam or the people around them. Lucifer always told the truth. Lucifer was going to go home with him.

"Yes, Sam. Thank God." Lucifer smiled gently and pressed a kiss to Sam's temple. Sam relaxed into Lucifer completely.

* * *

There was a sickly sweet smell to funeral homes beyond all the antiseptic and chemicals that were used to keep dead flesh from decaying that Lucifer had never noticed before. Maybe he'd never noticed it because they never actually went to funerals. Hunters normally had pyres. If they were in funeral homes for a hunt there generally wasn't a funeral currently in the process. Even if there was, they probably weren't going to stick around for hours. He didn't know what he'd never noticed the smell before, but he noticed it now. He knew that he would never seek out flower gardens to collect his calm again. Flowers meant funeral homes. And the funeral home meant Lucifer was alone.

They'd burned Sam's body in a pyre. A Hunter's Funeral. It was proper. But Kevin had insisted on having a memorial service. They'd had one for Dean, it was only fair. There hadn't been a body to bury. Some of Sam's ashes hung in a tiny silver bottle around Lucifer's neck.

The service was fine, acceptable. People came from all over who'd known Sam, who Sam had helped. People cried. They gave Lucifer condolences. Benny stood at Lucifer's shoulder the entire time while Castiel sat on the opposite side of the room. The scent of flowers was so strong Lucifer thought he might vomit.

When the service was over and everyone else had gone home Lucifer sat in the chapel, waiting for Castiel.

"I've come for my final dose," Castiel said, sitting beside Lucifer.

"I assumed. Did you do what I asked?" Lucifer questioned.

"Dean knows that when he visits Sam's Heaven, he's to act like Sam's memory of you is really you," Castiel said.

"Then take it all," Lucifer said. He drew out the small knife he'd created from melting down Gabriel's angel blade. He had a set of them. Smaller was just more convenient for him. He slashed his left wrist deeply, enough that his grace shone through, and bright and blinding as Lucifer had always been.

Castiel closed his mouth around the wound and drank. Lucifer felt himself getting weaker and weaker. He'd never allowed Castiel to take so much before. But Castiel needed it to get back to heaven, and Lucifer didn't. Lucifer would never be welcomed back no matter what he did.

Lucifer tugged his wrist away when he felt almost human. Castiel glowed with Lucifer's radiance in Lucifer's sight. Lucifer closed his wound enough that he wouldn't bleed to death, but he was too weak to do anything more.

"What will you do when I'm no longer around to take your grace?" Castiel asked, standing up. He wiped his mouth with one of the stupid pink tissues the funeral home provided.

"You don't care," Lucifer said. "Go. Give Dean a kiss for me."

And then Castiel was gone. Lucifer sat back with a heavy sigh. He didn't feel like he could even move. He didn't actually know what he'd do to keep his vessel now that his way of siphoning his grace off was gone. But he had a while to figure it out. He was down to next to nothing.

"You still here, Brother?" It was Benny.

"Yeah, got a treat for you too, big boy," Lucifer said. He handed Benny the bloody knife when Benny slid into the pew next to Lucifer. Benny wiped the blood off the blade with his fingers and then licked his fingers clean. He took his handkerchief out after that and cleaned the blade before handing the knife back to Lucifer, who resettled it back into jacket.

"Is your wrist okay?" Benny asked.

"It'll scar," Lucifer said.

"I didn't think angels scared," Benny said.

"They do when you injure the grace. I may have nicked mine," Lucifer said. Benny got up and left. He came back with the first aid kit and helped Lucifer bandage his wrist.

"Well, now you look like a suicide victim, congratulations."

"I do not," Lucifer huffed. "For that I'd need to have scars on both wrists.

"Yeah… speaking of: I saw Sam's body when it was getting dressed for the pyre."

"Did you?" Lucifer asked with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

"Now, I remember Sam had a lot of scars, but there wasn't a single one on him when we got him ready for the fire."

"He didn't need them anymore," Lucifer said.

"What does that mean?"

"They were to remind me that he was mortal… and I can't forget now, can I?" he asked.

Benny sighed heavily. "Alright, I'm going to take you out and get you drunk while you're still capable, and we're not going home until you're not hung over. Deal?"

"Yeah," Lucifer said quietly, standing up. "Deal." He followed Benny out of the funeral home.


End file.
